


the only one

by atsueshi



Series: after this [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-17 23:09:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/873020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atsueshi/pseuds/atsueshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He runs into Tetsu and for the first time in quite a while, Daiki realises the painful truth behind his famous words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the only one

**Author's Note:**

> Post Seirin-Kaijou.

“Dai-chan!”

Daiki growls, but makes no attempt to push Satsuki away as she wraps her arms around his. He is just too lazy, and too downright wistful after seeing Tetsu and Kise’s match. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?”

“’Aomine’ is just a mouthful, you know,” she answers.

Daiki manages a snigger; once your head’s in the gutter, it stays in the gutter. “You do realise your answer is so suggestive?”

She slaps his arm and later walks away, leaving him in a bench close to the coliseum’s entrance, and he gets the feeling it’s because Satsuki’s somehow sensed his mood. “I’ll go get us something to eat. Stay there!”

He can hear the rumble of the crowd getting ready to leave. The closing ceremonies were done. Seirin is headed for the Finals versus Akashi tomorrow.

Daiki mumbles and sits down. This is the part he had feared all evening: this  _thinking_ , this  _introspection_ … He was hoping he could just go home and read or something, not _think_ , alone, looking lonely and forlorn (which just  _sucks_ , surely no one is thinking that), sitting on a bench, with the possibility of Tetsu—

— _He wouldn’t._

Daiki sighs. It has been a while since his mind gathered enough strength to start talking back.

_It was probably stupid to say stuff like that._

_No._  It’s not the Daiki regrets ever saying that the only one who could beat him is himself—if anything, he’s quite proud of the accomplishment, despite the undeniable boredom and the shitload of angst he buried himself in along with it. He learned so long ago that genius — obviously he refers to his sports genius (everyone knows all too well how he was never an Academics guy) — always came with a price. He did think, however, that he could pay whatever price he had to pay.

But not Tetsu. Heavens, if he had known Tetsu would be the price for such brilliance, then he would’ve just chosen to remain the same. He… Well, watching Tetsu play so seamlessly alongside that Kagami guy… It… It  _didn’t_ hurt. At all. It just—

—Oh, who was he kidding? His naïveté did not stretch so far. It fuckin’ hurt, and it fuckin’ hurt a lot. Admittedly Daiki initially did not realise what the weird twinge was when he first saw that Kagami fist-bump Tetsu, but as he watched them actually moving together with one undiscernible rhythm… He couldn’t lie to save his life so naturally he couldn’t lie to himself any better.

He felt jealousy.

And sadness. Overwhelming sadness, knowing how it was his fault they fell apart in the first place.

And, though he didn’t like it  _at all_ , he felt lonely.

_I probably deserve this. Damn right it was my fault._

_Shut_ up _._

After Tetsu’s buzzer beater (he’s proud of that one; after all, he  _did_  teach Tetsu how to shoot), he turned around to leave, not wanting to see how Tetsu celebrates with his team, but of course his head just had to betray him and he (rather reluctantly) looked back. The sight of Tetsu smiling minced whatever there was left in his chest that hadn’t already been crushed by the damn fist-bump thing with that idiot red-head—

“Aomine-kun?”

His heart nearly jumps out of his chest when he raises his head to look at the newcomer that jerks him out of his thoughts. Tetsu, in all his five-foot glory, looks at him from above a cup of vanilla shake.

Daiki only manages a grunt of recognition.

“Why are you alone?”

For a moment he decides whether to answer or not. But this was Tetsu. He always answered Tetsu’s questions. “Satsuki went to buy food.” He glances up once more. “Why are  _you_  alone? Where’s the rest of your team?”

“They went ahead. I wanted to check some of the books here.”

Daiki just nods, and an eerie silence passes between them before he musters enough courage to say the words that were so against his will. His heart gives out a very painful throb. Daiki does not want know what it means. “Congratulations. You and that Kagami… you make a pretty good team.”

He meets Tetsu’s gaze, and Tetsu just looks at him for a long, long time before saying, “Yes, Kagami-kun is a good player.”

Silence once again. Daiki wonders whether to break it or keep it that way. A part of him (the annoying, emotionally-stable part) says breaking the silence would be the only way to clean up the slate and bury this messed-up affair behind, but another part (the stronger, also-annoying, masochistic, lazy-ass part) just says,  _Let it be._

Unfortunately, the latter wins.

“Seirin is a great team,” Tetsu mumbles, probably in an attempt to break the stillness.

Daiki looks up at the sky – dusk has settled over the city. “Huh.”

He looks at Tetsu one final time before standing up and deciding to go look for Satsuki. Anymore of this fragile conversation and he just knows his heart will fail.

“See you around, Tetsu,” he says, leaving Tetsu alone by the stone bench. The shock on his face might mean anything, but Daiki doesn’t want to think about it.

As he wanders the streets looking for Satsuki, Daiki thinks about how right he was — that the only one that could beat him was himself. It was the part of him that lodged itself in Tetsu a long, long time ago, and is yet to be removed.

He snorts in derision but winces at the reality of his words.

_The only one who can beat me is me._


End file.
